


You Can Tell Me Anything And I'll Listen

by revenblue



Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [140]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Gen, Holding Hands, Marriage Proposal, POV Second Person, Platonic Life Partners, Platonic Marriage Proposal, Platonic Relationships, technically announcement of intention to propose but still, they have a proper conversation about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: "Okay," you sigh, letting him lead you to the couch on the other side of the room, "fine, you win. What do you want to know?"
Relationships: Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus
Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [140]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/746841
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	You Can Tell Me Anything And I'll Listen

_Why do you do it?_

Perry the Platypus stares levelly at you, unblinking, like he _didn't_ just pull the world out from under your feet with a single question. Again. Somehow he knows all your weak points, even the ones you _don't_ wear on your sleeve for him to thwart. He's really quite _frustrating_ sometimes.

Suppressing a shiver at how exposed you feel now, you fold your arms. "I'm _evil_ , Perry the Platypus, do I _need_ a reason?" Of course you do, that's why you have your _monologues_ , and he knows it.

At least it's _him_. His expression softens and he pulls your arm down, squeezing your hand.

"Okay," you sigh, letting him lead you to the couch on the other side of the room, "fine, you win. What do you want to know?" Dropping into it, you shift in place with a grimace. Perry the Platypus insisted you get rid of the old one for some reason, and this one's not quite broken in yet, even with you keeping it in your lab for those nights when you stay up building inators until you're ready to pass out. Which happens more often than you're willing to admit, especially to him.

He climbs up beside you, keeping his distance, and you're oddly _grateful_ for that. It's not that you hate him, but you're- you need _space_. Pointing at what's left of your inator, he makes a soft noise. _What drives you to build them?_

The easy answer, of course, is _him_. They're for him. "You can't _thwart_ me if there's nothing to _thwart_ ," you point out, and he snorts. " _What_? You're a good _listener_ , you know. It's... nice... to know you'll _show up_. That's why I wanted a _nemesis_ in the first place, and I got _you_ , and, well... you know the rest."

All you get in response is a raised eyebrow. He _knows_ there's more to it than that, and you can't lie to him. Not to _Perry the Platypus_.

"I get so _lonely_ sometimes." Which he probably already knows. "When you're not here, I mean." You have to clarify _that_ point, or else he'll think _he's_ not good enough for _you_. Even though he _is_. No, _you're_ the one that doesn't deserve _him_. "I _know_ you can't be here _all_ the time, so I build things while I wait." Not just inators. He has to know _that_ by now, he's seen the results of your hoard of yarn and paint and entirely too much time on your hands. Glancing down at said hands, you flex your fingers, then curl them into fists. You built _these_ , too.

He chirrs softly and you glance up at him, seeing only sympathy in his eyes. No trace of _pity_. He's never pitied you, even when you _begged_ him to.

Letting out a sigh, you weave your fingers together, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm glad you're here. Really, I _am_ , even though you're always _thwarting_ me-" Cutting yourself off, you close your eyes for a second. Not the point. "It means a lot, knowing you _care_ enough, and I- I'm glad it's _you_ , you know?"

For so many reasons, not just that he's an _agent_. You've been thwarted by a lot of agents, most of whom don't meet his high standards for professionalism, some of whom are absolutely _terrible_ at it. He's different. Amongst other things, _he_ actually _listens_ when you monologue, and even puts in the effort to _remember_ what you tell him. And he's good with _Vanessa_. If _that_ wasn't enough, he has an amazing smile when he lets down his guard enough, warm and cosy. Who can blame you for getting attached?

Sure, he's still your _nemesis_ , but that's never really mattered much in the past. Okay, it matters when he _hits_ you. But the rest of the time? He's more of a _friend_ than anyone else you've known, except _maybe_ Balloony. Or Peter the Panda.

Then again, were _they_ there for you when you had to retake your driving test? Didn't think so.

He leans back against the armrest, eyebrow raised, and gestures out beyond the balcony to the rest of Danville, still unconquered despite your best efforts. _And the Tri-State Area? Why are you so determined to take over?_

"That's what evil scientists are _supposed_ to do, right? Take over the- the local government?" you huff, folding your arms again. Happens all the time in _movies_. Sure, the evil scientists _in_ those movies always _lose_ at the end, but they'd set their sights on the _world_ by the end, it's no wonder they get _defeated_. Hubris, that's what it is.

From the looks he's giving you, he doesn't buy it. That's your _nemesis_ for you. He knows you too well.

You groan, running your hands over your face. Of course he wants the _truth_. The _real_ reason, the one you don't talk about. "I just thought- If I could do _one thing_ to be _successful_ , then maybe Mother would-" You can't say it. Can barely _think_ it, it hurts so much. "I mean, if it worked for _Roger_..." The words dry up after that.

Making a soft noise, he offers you his little hand, and you can't help but take it. Who are you to turn down _anything_ Perry the Platypus is willing to give you? You'd have to be a dummkopf to do _that_ , or at least more of one than usual.

"Perry the Platypus," you say, threading your fingers between his, "this is... unexpected, and by that I mean-" Letting out a breath, you try for a smile. "Well, you know the rest, right? You _should_ , you're _here_ often enough. Here for _me_ \- and I'm _grateful_ for that, I really am - and... and I think _that's_ why I keep doing this. It's not about _Mother_ , or _Roger_ , it's because I know _you'll_ be here to _stop_ me."

He huffs, shoving at you like he's _offended_. Which he's not. You can _tell_ , because he didn't let go of your _hand_ to do it. Rolling his eyes, he leans back against the couch, closer than he was. _It's not about winning at all, is it?_

Of course it is, you want to protest. But he's right. Your priorities _have_ changed, without you even noticing. _Scheming_ has become less about _taking over_ and more about giving _him_ something satisfying to thwart so he keeps coming back. And here he is. "I think I've already won," you say softly, squeezing his little hand. "But enough about _me_ , Perry the Platypus, I think it's time for _you_ to answer some questions for once."

From the way his brow furrows at that, you'd almost think he was _worried_. What does _he_ have to worry about? It's not like you're going to _hurt_ him, there are _rules_.

"Like..." What _do_ you ask a secret agent? After all, it's a job with _secret_ in the name, he probably won't even _answer_ most of your questions. You tap your chin, thinking. "What do _you_ get out of this? Not just the thwarting, either, the whole..." Nemesisship?

More than nemesisship, you have to assume, if the way his paw fits so easily into your hand is anything to go by. Maybe even _friends_. You'd like that, being his friend. Does he feel the same way? You suspect he does, although that might just be wishful thinking. Friendship isn't something you're all that familiar with.

He shrugs, and you can tell from the set of his shoulders that that's as much a non-answer as your claims of _evil_. Dodging the _real_ question.

So you _ask_ the real question. "Why are you suddenly so _interested_ in my _motivations_ , Perry the Platypus? That's not _like_ you. Usually you're all punch first, ask questions _never_ , but-" You exhale, turning to face him properly, adding your other hand so both of them are wrapped around his. "What is this _really_ about?"

Pulling _his_ little hand free, he takes off his fedora, rummaging around inside it. After a few seconds, he pulls out a thick stack of papers.

"What is this?" you ask, reaching for the top page. "Let me see... 'Form 134-B, Declaration Of Intent To Request Legally-Binding Marriage With Non-O.W.C.A. Employee'? Are you- are you planning to get _married_ , Perry the Platypus?" Why didn't he tell you earlier? "Who's the lucky, ah, platypus? Or whoever."

Who else would he choose? Not _you_ , that's for sure, not his _nemesis_. Besides, what you have with him, nemesisship, _friendship_ , that's not a _marriage_ thing. You would know, you've _been_ married. _This_ is different.

In all honesty, you prefer it this way. All you ever wanted was a _friend_. Someone who's _there_ for you, the way _he_ is.

"I mean," you continue, like it doesn't hurt that he never _told_ you anything about the life he definitely has outside _you_ , "I don't know _what_ you do when you're not _here_ , maybe you're not dating a _platypus_ as such... but you _do_ have _someone_ , right? When can I meet them? Ooh, and can I come to the wedding? I'll be on my best behaviour, I promise, you have my word as an evil scientist."

He gives you a _look_ , the one he usually wears when you're monologuing, and taps the stack of papers. Underneath his finger, his neat handwriting fills the page. He _wants_ you to know what he wrote.

Are you missing something? Pulling out your reading glasses, you bend close enough that your nose almost brushes against the paper. "Let's see... 'I, Perry the Platypus, do hereby declare my intentions to marry the man known as'-" You frown at his handwriting, sure you misread it. Why would he write _your_ name? "I think you made a _mistake_ , unless there's a _second_ Doctor Heinz Doofenshmirtz out there, it doesn't- You can't mean _me_ , right?"

Raising his eyebrows, he nods, pointedly. _Who else would I be talking about?_

"I mean, you have... you have _other_ friends, right?" You're grasping for alternatives and you know it, and _he_ knows it, but what other choice do you have? _Hope_? Been there, done that, not worth the effort. You're _done_ getting your hopes up. It only leads to disappointment, and you're sick of it. That's what you keep telling your heart.

With an audible sigh, he tugs the paper free from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours as he does. And _lingering_.

You swallow, like that can suppress the traitorous _hope_ you've spent so long trying, and failing, to destroy. Maybe, a voice in the back of your mind whispers, he _means_ it? What would you do if he _did_? "Why me?" you whisper, in a voice you wish didn't sound so broken.

Making a soft noise, he takes your hands in his own, the corner of his bill twitching in that way it does when he's trying to suppress a smile. You've seen it happen enough times to know _that_. But there's a sadness to it now, some reason it doesn't reach his eyes. _Because you listen_ , that smile says. _Because you care what I think. Because you treat me like a person._

"I mean, you _are_ a person, Perry the Platypus," you protest, staring into his warm brown eyes. Since when was _that_ in question? "Perry the Platy _person_ , see? It works."

He shoves at you with his shoulder, just forceful enough for you to feel it, and rolls his eyes. _You don't get it, do you? How rare that is?_ Closing his eyes, he makes a quiet noise, almost a whimper, his grip tightening around your fingers. _Most of the world acts like all I am is my species, that I can't be anything more. And then there's you, acting like I'm a person, like you forget I'm a platypus at all, and it's..._

When he doesn't finish that thought, you lift a hand, still tucked into his, and nudge his chin up, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "I don't _forget_ ," you lie, and he snorts. Can't get _anything_ past him. "Okay, maybe I _do_ , but that's because I have _bigger_ things to worry about when you're punching me in the _face_ again. Like being punched in the face again. It's very _distracting_ , you know." Not that you're mad at him. You could never be mad at him, not really. "Think about it. Here I am, trying to take over the Tri-State Area, as you do, then _bam_ I'm on the floor again, _thwarted_ , all because of _you_."

This time, his smile reaches his eyes. _Thank you._ He lets out a breath, leaning against your chest, so casual you almost wonder if he's still the same Perry the Platypus you're used to. This isn't like him. Then he baps you on the nose with his tail, rolling his eyes, and you relax. Yep, that's your nemesis alright.

"Don't mention it," you mumble, like it's not a big deal even though it _is_. Why did you ever doubt him?

Silence falls after that, almost comfortable if it wasn't for your racing thoughts. Did you tell him you'd do it? You didn't, did you? Dummkopf, how are you supposed to _marry_ him if you don't _tell_ him you will? That's the most important step!

Deep breaths, Heinz. You can do this. "So," you say, as casually as you can, "what does _this_ -" You gesture at his stack of paperwork. "-mean for, you know, _us_?"

He shrugs. _We're nemeses._

"Well, _yeah_ , of _course_ we're still going to be _nemeses_ , but..."

Pulling back, he looks you in the eye, making a soft noise. _You don't have to marry me if you don't want to. I know how much this means to you, and I'll understand if you want to save it in case one of your dates works out._

Like that'll ever happen. It's nice of him to think of it, but knowing your luck... You're not holding your breath. "No, I'm fine, Perry the Platypus," you say, with a smile you almost mean. "I... I want to do this. Dating hasn't been going well, and, uh... I mean, it'd be nice to know I have _someone_ I can rely on to be there. You've always been good at that. Being there, I mean." He's good at _lots_ of things. Understanding you, for one, even when you don't want him to. Thwarting you, obviously. Knowing what you need.

What you needed _today_ , apparently, was a proper conversation. Not a monologue. You told him the things you usually edit _out_ of your monologues, and he still _listened_ , without ever pitying you for it, or judging you, or walking away. Why hasn't he left yet?

It's not that you _want_ him to leave, because you don't. You're just used to everyone leaving, sooner rather than later, because you're too much for them.

"Even if you're usually here to _thwart_ me," you try to joke, pushing the aching loneliness out of your mind. He's _different_. Ever since he crashed through the door and into your life, things have been... easier. Knowing he'll be here to thwart you. Knowing he'll _come back_. Knowing you don't have to _pretend_ for him. He's seen you at your worst, and he's _still here_ , asking to _marry_ you. Where would you be without him?

Lost, probably. Still searching for meaning.

You've found that meaning, now. With his little hands tucked so neatly into yours, softening the edges of your backstories, you think you can finally be happy. "Curse you, Perry the Platypus," you murmur, heart light. "And- Wait a minute, why _marriage_? Is _friendship_ not enough for you? If- if we _are_ friends, I just realised I never _asked_ you- We are? Good, good, I'm _glad_ \- I mean, I never _doubted_ \- Why _marriage_?"

The edge of his bill darkens in what you've come to realise is embarrassment as he avoids your gaze. _Wanted to be family._

"I already _have_ a family, you don't need to-"

_They don't count._ Gripping your hands tighter, he stares into your eyes. _Family is a choice, not blood, and I've chosen you. Have they?_

How do you answer that? You _want_ to object, to say he's wrong, that of _course_ Mother might one day- Your own words from earlier slam into you, and you squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears. If you were _successful_... But you're not, so they won't. All you have is _him_ and... "V-Vanessa did... right?"

He nods, expression softening. _She does._

"So, is _that_ it?" you have to ask, to cover the relief washing over you. You're _not_ a failure of a father whose daughter wants nothing to do with him. "You decided on _marriage_ because you thought it'd make a point about _family_?" Because it's _working_ , not that you'll tell _him_ that.

There's his _blush_ again, and he shrugs. _I don't like your last name._

Drawing yourself up, you glare down at him, suddenly furious. That's your _name_ , you worked _hard_ for it, how _dare_ he. "That's _rude_ , Perry the _Rude_ apus, I never say anything about _your_ name-"

His tail thwaps against your face again, not even hard enough to sting.

"What was that for?" you protest, and he gives you that familiar look of _disappointment_. "I mean, it's _true_ -"

Pressing his tail over your mouth to shut you up, he narrows his eyes, squeezing your fingers hard enough to hurt. _It came from your parents, so I don't like it._ Is he... crying? He's not supposed to _cry_ , he's Perry the Platypus! _They don't appreciate you the way I do._

How would _he_ know? He's never even _met_ them, just heard your backstories, where they didn't even do anything _wrong_. "But Perry the Platypus, they-"

He shakes his head firmly, cutting you off. _They don't deserve you._

Swallowing back every response you want to give him, every excuse he'll shut down with a roll of his eyes so why _bother_ , you lift your hand, with his still tucked into the palm, and brush a knuckle under his eye. It comes away wet. Your nemesis really _is_ crying, and it's all your fault. But he's still _here_. He's still here with you, his little hands in yours, staring at you like you matter to him.

Why does he have to keep _believing_ in you? Thwarting _all_ your schemes including the terrible ones, keeping you company even after he's done, and now asking to _marry_ you? He's too good for you.

As if he can hear your thoughts, he baps you again with his tail, then steps back. Your hands fall from his, and it's clear from his expression he regrets it. Making a quiet noise, he turns back to his stack of paperwork, tail twitching, retrieving a single piece of paper from the bottom and handing it to you with a pen. _Sign this._

A blank spot, ready for your name, to confirm your willingness to marry your nemesis. He really has thought of everything.

"Yeah," you say, voice thick, and take the pen. "Yeah, I can do that."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Think About Things](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4m_q1A7g_U) by Daði Freyr, which honestly describes so much of their relationship. _Really_ fit this specific fic, too XD
> 
> Ship server is in series description as always, platonic shippers are very much welcome too.


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